


Third Time's a Charm

by buttercups3



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: F/M, LJ 60 prompts in 60 days, Language, Smut, prompt: aflame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-03
Updated: 2013-08-03
Packaged: 2017-12-22 07:40:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/910634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buttercups3/pseuds/buttercups3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Riles porn, rendered with loving care. The third time into their affair, and things are heating up. Written for LJ's 60 prompts in 60 days. Prompt: aflame.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Third Time's a Charm

**Author's Note:**

> This is dedicated to everyone with blue balls after reading DYTR's "Full House." Because I'm caring like that. (And no, not THAT Charm, cuties. But I can write some Bass-Charlie porn to make up for the confusion.)

The first two times Miles and Rachel did it were desperate, voracious ravagings – one so spontaneous, they recklessly, stupidly fucked without a condom and came so fast they surprised themselves. So the third time is the first where they actually get the chance to reconnoiter the other’s defenses, weaknesses, impulses – savor the scars, the pockmarks, the cellulite. Because all these things are there and all these things are desirable to lovers who have waited in agonizing need, hung in a jellied limbo of sly glances and swallowed heartbeats for years upon fucking years. 

Rachel hasn’t even gotten a good look at _it_ yet, and she feels more curious about it than, for instance, how to unravel any of the innumerable remaining mysteries of nanotechnology. Yet she’s already felt it in her – filling, swelling, thumping in that pleasure-ache against her cervix.

Well, Miles isn’t giving her the chance to see it now, even though they’re both stark naked, but for the moment, she forgets she cares, because he’s yanked her ass to the edge of the bed and plopped to his knees before her. Her brain registers that it knows what’s coming next, but when he slowly drags his tongue up from the bottom of her folds to where he gently spreads them and just sucks her clitoris, she thinks: _Jesus, could a person die of satiation?_

She realizes she hasn’t really known what this feels like until now. Ben never seemed very interested in her equipment, whereas Miles has taken it up like she imagines he’d attend to his rifle – with exquisite technique, enraptured care. He’s tender at first, but after a few moments, he sets a meticulous rhythm and enters her with a few fingers. She finds her throat is making unbidden garbling sounds and is almost embarrassed. It’s been ages since she’s had a new lover, and part of her thinks, _Don’t blow this, Matheson_ , because she must, absolutely must, come like this. Her body insists. It is coiling up around itself preparing for some kind of atomic-level meltdown. She’s been squeezing her eyes shut in focus, but she suddenly looks down at Miles, who has fixed her with a sharp, electric stare to: _Oh, to watch her come. He can feel it happening._

The way she knows he can feel her impending edge is he slides her bum even closer with his free hand and increases the pulsing of his tongue and the driving of his fingers. When Ben tried to get her off this way, it felt almost like sandpaper, so she’d always stop him. Now, she finds herself catapulting headlong into oblivion, moaning all her earlier inhibitions away.

Miles slides out his fingers and kisses her vulva one more time with such love, it sends a pang to Rachel’s chest. She realizes that until this moment, she thought she was…undesirable down there, because Ben didn’t seem to enjoy it. Without unlocking his gaze, Miles gets up to lie down next to her on the bed, as she sinks heavily into the feathery duvet. He confirms, as he spreads his fingers on the gooseflesh of her exposed stomach:

“ _So_ beautiful.”

She’s almost startled he’s put this to words, since he is a man of so few. She cocks her head to look into the brown eyes boring into her, seeming to demand that she acknowledge the truth of what he’s said, and she just smiles. _Beautiful_. This reminds her of what she longs to look at. She indulges herself now, her eyes wandering lazily from the soft hair of his chest down his trail.

It really is perfect – big (but not intimidatingly so), blushed with blood, superbly erect. Miles seems to like her gaze, because he takes her hand into his and places it directly onto his penis. He guides her up and down the silky shaft a few times, before releasing her to her work and closes his eyes to enjoy it, giving over completely to trust. It makes her feel so…wanted. Almost immediately, his tongue emerges between his lips and sticks there in that way she admires that indicates he’s forgotten himself.

The skin is so delicate; the pulse thudding in her hand. The contrast of the velvet with the hard beneath is something she could ruminate on all day. With every pull, Miles jerks up almost imperceptibly, making the minutest little “Mmm,” just for her. The sound beckons her into a primal state, in which she begins jacking him with intensifying fervor. It seems only a moment or two before Miles stays her hand with his, gently but firmly.

For a moment, she’s concerned she’s crossed a line – after all, she’s sweating like she’s been jumping hurdles for a mile. “Too much?” she frets in a small voice.

Miles exhales in a short, delicious laugh. “Um, no. That’s just how I like it. But I want to be able to finish in you.”

He looks almost chagrinned at this admission, which she accidentally compounds by adding, “It's so sensitive!” which she meant with complete admiration, but his cheeks redden, and he mumbles with a touch of defensiveness:

“I’ve wanted you to touch me for so long.”

“Oh no, Miles! I didn't mean-” Her air passage chokes off for a moment as she realizes what it’s like to wound Miles’s pride in bed. Again – new lovers. It takes a stumble here and there. “I meant, God, I meant you’re absolutely perfect. _It_ is perfect.”

Miles gives her another uncertain look but reaches forward to gather her into his arms, more for his own comfort than hers, it seems. There’s something adorably innocent about the way he makes love, despite his intensely manly charisma. This juxtaposition and the everywhere contact of his skin on hers makes her tremble. She inhales spice and sweat and something uniquely him - something she can only liken to opening her favorite, dog-eared copy of _Animal Farm_. This comparison would surely confuse him, but for her it is the ultimate in comfort.

He whispers in her ear, “How do you want to do it?” and nuzzles her earlobe.

Frankly, Ben has never asked her this in their entire sex life. He has always either waited for her to figure something out or merely propped her up in the old standard: her on top doing all the work. She’s a bit flustered. The way she’s in Miles's arms has her buttocks smashed up against his twitching erection, and suddenly she’s desperate to know how it would feel to have his dick slide down between her cheeks and into her vagina.

“Um…from behind?” In a second, she panics, because what if he thinks she’s going for kinky right away. “I don’t mean…”

“I know what you mean,” he chuckles warmly. And then with a maturity Ben never had (again, why can’t her brain stop comparing them), he adds: “You can always ask for what you want from me.”

Before she has the chance to wonder exactly how he plans on getting his compass-north boner in her from behind, Miles has gathered her body so that she is crouching, almost sitting back into his lap. She hears the crinkle of wrapper. Then the “uhhh” of pleasure he makes when he guides himself into her nearly melts her into a puddle of rapture.

“Fuck, Miles. Keep making sounds like that, and I’ll come again for you.”

Miles laughs on her shoulder and bites playfully. “Oh you’re gonna come again,” he insists, like he’s already taken up the challenge long before she’s had the cajones to dream it up.

In a few minutes she is pretty close, but without the clitoral stimulation, she probably won’t finish. He seems to have thought of this, too, because he flips her over onto her back and is instantly on top of her in missionary, grinding relentlessly onto her pubic bone, his dick slamming into a deep well of pent-up arousal. Miles has a shit-ton of energy. It’s kind of wild how rapidly he can fuck her when he wants to – with speed and zeal she’s only seen in pornos. She knows she’s multi-orgasmic from masturbating, but she’s never come more than once with a partner. Well, that has changed. Her muscles contract around his penis, as she tries to drive him in deeper than her anatomy will allow with her nails lodged into his biceps.

He’s chuckling again. “Easy, babe. There's a wall in there.” She realizes he doesn't give a damn about the nails in his flesh - it's her he's protecting. Miles transitions to fucking her in long, easy strokes to carry her off the peak of her orgasm.

She barely knows what he’s saying. Her whole body is aflame. Miles the Marine may have boundless energy, but she now feels utterly spent. And then she hears this:

“I think we can get number three out of you.”

She begins giggling like a schoolgirl being chased by the tickle monster. She barely squeezes out between a snort and a laugh, “I don’t think so, Miles. You go ahead and finish.”

“Nah. We got this.” Miles draws out of her and leisurely strokes himself, because his erection has waned slightly. She finds she’s mesmerized by the sight.

She can’t help herself. “Or I could just watch you do that for the rest of the day.”

He shoots her an adorably quizzical look and counter-proposes, “How about you climb up here?”

Rachel gets a second wind. Up she climbs to ride him, and he ghosts his thumb to her over-sensitized clit. “Miles.”

“Shh. I’ll be gentle.” But he doesn’t look like he plans to be gentle. He has the world’s most devilish grin on his face. As soon as he starts rocking inside her, however, she doesn’t mind the increasing pressure he puts on her nub. It’s not long before she’s thrashing against him with mounting force.

“Not sure I’m gonna make it,” he warns, looking a little disappointed at himself and biting his lip. “Nope! Aww, fuuuck,” he’s coming and swearing: beautifully profane. His groans continue (it feels like Miles comes forever), and she rides him on and on to her conclusion like she’s taking a trip around the ring on a particularly insane bucking bronco. Miles doesn’t seem to mind, still spasming and shuddering through the aftershocks of his own release.

Rachel practically falls off him to the side and collapses on the sweaty curls of his chest. “Holy shit." And she can't help it - she feels self-congratulatory. "I was awesome,” she laughs at herself. Three fucking orgasms. This she could get used to…though the nagging part of her brain reminds her that she never can. This is an affair.

“I’m feeling…accomplished,” Miles says through a smile, his shoulders rattling in silent laughter.

Miles rolls off the condom he’s managed to put on sometime before the fucking with dignified subtlety. He takes her hand and rests it gently on his damp, softening dick. She looks fondly into his eyes, as she learns what he likes. With her free hand she makes a circle around his nipple, and he shivers.

“You asleep?” she whispers after a long span of comfortable silence.

“No,” he answers softly through closed eyes. “I’m memorizing your hands on me.”

Holy God, in this moment, she's utterly convinced that no one has ever presented a sexier portrait of post-coital bliss.

 

 


End file.
